


Night Light

by Threshie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Guilty Dean, Guilty Sam, Hugs, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, Men of Letters Bunker, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sleeping Castiel, Sleepovers, Team Free Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 08:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11620065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie/pseuds/Threshie
Summary: After Cas uses up the last of his grace saving Sam’s life, the brothers try to help him adjust to his now-permanent humanity. For an ex-angel, falling asleep feels a little too much like dying.





	Night Light

The first few days of Castiel’s humanity are tough — he’s been here before, but it’s bringing back how miserable the last time was. Sam and Dean do their best to make it different this time, giving Cas his own room in the bunker. They help him with everything, patiently answering any question no matter how obvious the answer seems to them. Their angel isn’t an angel anymore, and he says he’s okay, but he always says that, even when he’s not.

Each night they go to their separate rooms. After Sam shows him how to, Cas brushes his teeth, then he puts on pajamas and sinks into the bed they’ve made up for him with the soft blankets and pillows. 

And that’s where the peaceful routine ends. After lights out, he lays there in the dark and studies the emptiness in the corners of the room, the open space hooded by deep shadows. His angel self would have known exactly what was in that darkness. His newfound humanity doesn’t know anymore — and it’s frightened of that.

It isn’t that the world has gotten any larger, either. Cas has gotten smaller. He’s cut off from the greater part of reality that he’s used to. He’s no longer that celestial creature a thousand feet tall when he isn’t in his vessel. Now he feels like he’s only the vessel. In the dark especially, he feels lost.

It takes a couple of days for Sam and Dean to notice that he’s not sleeping. Cas is sitting at the table with the brothers at the time, poking at his breakfast and feeling too heavy and dizzy to lift the fork to his mouth.

“Not hungry?” Sam asks, noticing how quiet he is. Cas does his best to shake his head, but the room is fading. He recognizes the heavy exhaustion for what it is from the first time he was human. He hadn’t been able to sleep easily then, either.

“I’m okay,” he mumbles, and even he isn’t convinced. The fork makes a little clatter as it slips from his hand onto the plate, and he’s slouching in his chair. The next thing he knows, there are arms around him. Strong arms — Sam, helping him up from his seat.

“’Okay.’ Right. Come on, let’s get you to the couch.” Cas nods, but he’s pretty sure his friend doesn’t see it.

A moment later he’s being laid out on the couch on his back, one arm dangling over the edge. He can’t resist sleep any longer, no matter how much he dreads it. The world slips into blackness again, and he falls…  


* * *

  
“…Not sleeping. He’s been out for twelve hours, how long do you think he stayed awake to pass out like this?” Cas awakens to Sam’s voice. He’s speaking softly, probably to avoid waking Cas, and sounds concerned. That’s nice of him to be concerned. 

“Maybe he’s having nightmares.” Dean’s voice comes from somewhere further to the side than Sam’s. He sounds bothered, too. The guilt in his voice is surprising as he adds, “He’s not used to sleeping at all, Sam. Maybe he’s never had nightmares before now.”

Why does Dean take that upon himself? It isn’t his fault that Castiel is human. It isn’t anybody’s fault but his own. The way he talks about nightmares makes Cas dread sleeping again even more, though. He hasn’t had any of those yet. He just doesn’t want to shut down again, go dark. When he sleeps what little sliver of the world he can still see as a human flickers out as well. It’s too much like dying.

He opens his eyes, then, and slowly sits up on the couch. Sam is standing near the armrest, and turns to him with a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, Cas. Feel better after you got some sleep?”

Castiel turns his gaze from the younger brother to Dean, who is sitting on a chair nearby. He doesn’t smile like Sam, but watches Cas with a small frown.

“Yes,” the ex-angel admits, stretching an arm over his head. He breaks into a small yawn before he can help himself. Yawning is new, too; it feels odd and involuntary. 

“Cas, how long have you been avoiding sleeping?” Dean asks bluntly, watching him. “And why?”

Castiel turns to sit properly on the couch, with his legs over the side. He feels strangely small under the brothers’ concerned stares. It only makes the truth seem that much more childish and foolish, and he can’t bring himself to answer the second question yet.

“Since we returned to the bunker.”

Of course they won’t leave it at that, though.

“Why?” Sam asks, leaning into his line of sight from the end of the couch. Cas glances at him uneasily, shrinking in his seat.

“It’s…foolish.” 

“If it’s keeping you up at night, it’s not,” Dean tells him, raising an eyebrow. Whatever he’s assuming it is, it is not. The answer is so simple that it’s laughable.

“I’m afraid,” Cas admits quietly, ducking his head. “Afraid of the dark.” He lowers his gaze to the floor, not wanting to see them laugh at him. He knows it’s an irrational fear, but he can’t help it, and his newly human heart is thudding just thinking about the emptiness and loneliness in that room at night. 

It’s dark, and it’s blank. The moment he slips away, how can he tell the difference between sleeping and dying? How do humans know that difference?

“Oh…” Sam sounds a little bemused, but not mocking. Cas is grateful. 

“Would a night light help?” Dean suggests it without any hint of a joke. He’s really just trying to help. They both are. Cas chances a look at the two brothers, glancing between them uncertainly.

“It’s not just the darkness,” he clarifies. “It’s sleep, too. Sleep feels…it feels like dying.” He doubts there’s any solution they can offer for that one. “Like I cease to be until I open my eyes again. It feels like I won’t return.”

“Have you had any dreams or nightmares?” Sam asks, unable to help himself. He’s curious. 

Cas shakes his head, looking at the younger of the brothers.

“I’m sorry to worry you. I just can’t sleep at night,” he explains wearily. “I lay down and close my eyes, but I can’t.”

He’s not sure what they can do about it, anyway. Sleeping is something all humans have to do, and now he’s human. Every night for the rest of his new life, he’s going to have to face this darkness. Staying awake clearly doesn’t work for long before he gets tired and sleep drags him down anyway.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by the hand on his shoulder. Sam smiles at him, reassuring.

“We’ll try a few things, Cas. Dean’s right, we should get a night light, and I’ll do some research with you on sleep and dreams. Maybe learning about it will help.”

Cas shoots him a grateful look and nods. Dean, he realizes, is also nodding. He’s glad that they’re trying to help, but he’s still not sure what can be done. A night light won’t chase away the darkness inside his head.  


* * *

  
“You sure you don’t want to just leave the lights on?” Dean is fussing over him like he’s a child. Cas would be annoyed about it, but he’s pretty sure Dean has dealt with this ‘scared of the dark’ thing with Sam when he was little, and is only trying to help. 

“The night light is fine. Thank you, Dean,” he says, glancing at the softly glowing new object on the bed stand. The convenience store only had a few options, all of them childish since apparently human beings usually conquer fear of the dark by adulthood. The night light is a large, rounded plastic star that glows from the inside when pressed upon. Dean calls it a push light. It’s good at chasing the shadows from the corners of the room.

The green-eyed man doesn’t look convinced that the star will be good enough now, though. Concluding that he won’t leave until he sees all is well, Castiel climbs into bed and pulls the blankets up to his shoulders. Resting his head on the pillow, he looks up at the ceiling wearily. Time to face sleeping again…

“Good night, Cas.” Dean does seem reassured by his actions, and smiles before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. Is it a sad smile, though? Cas thinks that it might be. 

He hopes Dean isn’t still blaming himself for Cas becoming human again. It was his choice. He could cling to the last of his weakened grace, or he could make sure Sam came back alive that day. If Sam had died, Dean would have, too — not physically, but everything else about him. So Cas chose to be human, and to let the three of them go home together. 

He doesn’t regret it now, even with the anxiety that closing his eyes brings. Being mortal is a small price to pay for the lives of both of his brothers. Even after Sam read him studies today about dreaming and how the brain’s waves change during sleep, he can’t help the uneasiness as the dark creeps over him. His body is heavy, and his breathing detached from his awareness. It’s okay, he tells himself, to drift away. He’ll return — Sam promised that he’ll return. 

He hopes, at least, that he can dream tonight.  


* * *

  
Castiel is already sitting up at the table by the time Sam arrives to make coffee the next morning. He’s fully dressed and has combed his hair. Sam, on the other hand, is in his pajama pants and a V-neck T-shirt, hair mussed and stubble still on his chin. Sleepily, the tall man waves at Cas and starts measuring out scoops of coffee grounds into the machine.

“Guess the night light didn’t work, huh?” He asks sympathetically, focusing on his task. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

Cas gets to his feet and moves over to stand next to Sam by the counter, sighing. 

“I must have fallen asleep, because I remember waking up. It was still dark, though,” he admits. 

He hadn’t been able to face letting the blackness swallow him a second time so soon. Wasn’t he supposed to sleep through the night? Why did he wake up so soon? Was something wrong? If something was wrong, maybe he could sleep wrong, cause something bad to happen. It’s irrational, but he can’t help it. He’s never had to drift away and return so many times before. When angels die, they wink out like stars, and he has always thought that it would be just like sleeping seems to be.

Though he’s died several times, each time he didn’t stay that way, so he’s not sure if he will ever find out what true death would have been like for him. It’s too late now.

Sam turns from closing the coffee maker lid and smiles at him. Cas isn’t sure why he’s smiling, but it’s such a fond look that he is reassured about waking up so quickly. Maybe this is normal? 

“You managed to fall asleep,” the brunette points out. “That’s a great start, Cas. I know this isn’t easy.” He pauses, guilt shadowing his face, and Cas is sure he feels responsible the same way that Dean does. Responsible for all of Cas’s troubles — for his humanity.

To distract him, the ex-angel reaches over and flicks the switch to turn on the coffee maker.

“I have you and Dean to teach me,” he says earnestly, looking up at his friend. Sam can help him overcome this, he’s sure of it. He just needs to embrace the falling part of falling asleep a little more. Falling is a lot more frightening without any wings, though.

Sam gives him a long look, brows furrowing sadly despite his nodding. Without warning, he leans over and wraps Cas in a hug. It’s thanks to Sam that Cas knows to hug back, and he does without hesitation. 

Hugging was different as an angel. Then, he would have noticed things like heart rates and wounds and the lights of souls around him. And now? Now his human self is pleasantly overwhelmed with the sensations of Sam’s soft shirt, his hair brushing Cas’s cheek, the scent of his shampoo, and how he’s trembling a little. Hugging now feels warm and alive — like he’s participating in that life, not just observing it. 

Cas pats Sam’s back, wondering why he’s shaking. The brunette says nothing about it when he lets go a moment later, busying himself with picking out coffee mugs for them all. He must be thinking about how Cas became human as well. Telling the brothers that it was not their fault doesn’t seem to work, so Castiel resolves to find some way to show them instead.  


* * *

  
“Sam?” Cas tilts his head at the sight of the brunette in his pajamas, a pillow and blanket tucked under his arms. It’s time for bed, and he’s just finished changing into pajamas and brushing his teeth, but now Sam has arrived here like this.

“Would it be okay if I sleep in here?” He asks, hazel eyes pleading. “I’ll take the floor. I thought maybe you’d feel better if you don’t fall asleep alone,” he explains, glancing at the glowing star on the bed stand. Cas looks at it, too, already feeling that weariness pressing at him. Sleep has been trying to pull him down for hours now. Dean said earlier that losing sleep the night before would just make him need to sleep more tonight, like some kind of debt to build up. It’s distressing to think about.

“Okay,” he agrees finally, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sam steps inside and closes the door behind him, moving to set up a makeshift bed on the floor beside Castiel’s. Cas watches him thoughtfully. 

“I read up on ways to fall asleep easier,” Sam says, straightening the edge of the blanket. “Like some deep breathing techniques. Do you want to try that?”

“It’s okay, Sam,” Cas says wearily, watching this. “I can fall asleep, I just…don’t want to be asleep. The sleeping, itself, disturbs me.” 

Taking a seat on top of his new “bed,” Sam looks up at him and nods a little. 

“If you keep thinking of it as something bad, it’ll still be hard to fall asleep,” he points out. “Sleep is good for you, Cas, it can’t hurt you.” 

“I know,” the ex-angel admits, sighing. He looks at the blanket on the floor and wonders if Sam will be comfortable laying on it. Probably not; the floor is hard.

“I never really considered how much it IS like dying until you described it that way,” Sam continues, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable. “You probably only ever missed a chunk of time as an angel when something bad happened, huh? Like getting knocked out or wounded.”

Or “reeducated,” Cas thinks bitterly. He’s sure there are huge parts of his long angelic life that he still can’t recall thanks to Naomi, even now that he’s human. Maybe it’s for the best that way.

“Yes,” he replies simply, a bit awkwardly. Sam doesn’t need to hear about Heaven’s meddling. Cas is no longer beholden to them, anyhow. “I know that you said we always come back, but that isn’t true of all humans. Many of you die in your sleep. I read about it.”

“That’s one of the better ways to go out, when you think about it,” Sam points out mildly. He smiles up at Cas, then, that same fond smile he had in the kitchen before the hug. “But humans don’t die FROM sleep, Cas. They die from something else while sleeping. There’s nothing wrong with you that would cause that, okay? Same for me and Dean, in case you’re worried about that too.”

Castiel has to admit, the thought has crossed his mind. That, and how fragile human life is, and how he can no longer heal Sam or Dean if they’re badly hurt. He dreads the day he’s faced with that. 

“I know it’s irrational, Sam,” he says tiredly, “But sleeping makes me anxious. I don’t know how to not be anxious.” 

“Lay down and get comfortable, and we’ll try some deep breaths,” Sam tells him. The confident tone of voice is reassuring. Sam has been sleeping most nights of his entire life, Cas reminds himself, and knows what he’s talking about.

He’s folding the blankets back when there’s a short, insistent knock on the door. He and Sam exchange a glance, and then Cas steps over to the door just as it opens a crack. It’s Dean, peering inside like maybe he’s not welcome.

“Cas? Figured you’d still be awake,” he says when Castiel opens the door, smiling at him uncertainly. It isn’t the smile that earns him Cas’s suspicious squinting look, it’s the blanket and pillow he has hugged under his arms. 

“I was about to lay down,” Cas tells him, studying his green eyes. He doesn’t look guilty, more concerned than anything.

Dean nods, trying to seem casual about it as he glances around the hallway. There’s nothing to see out there, though.

“Well, uh, I was thinking about when Sammy was little and he was scared of the dark, and I remember he always slept better if I was nearby,” he explains, looking at Cas like he’s testing just how foolish that sounds to him. “I thought maybe I could sleep on the floor and you might, I don’t know, sleep easier that way. If you want.” He shrugs a little, pretending the reply doesn’t matter, but Cas can see that he’s trying to help as best he can.

He steps aside and waves Dean into his room. The brothers have noticed each other by the time he turns around after closing the door.

“You’ll have to sleep on the left side — Sam is on the right,” he says mildly.

Dean’s expression is priceless. He was so concerned about asking to sleep in here, and Cas already had this conversation before he arrived. Sam, meanwhile, has gotten under the blanket of his makeshift bed and is grinning at his brother.

“Guess we had the same idea.” 

“That’s because it’s a good one,” Dean replies, moving to the other side of the bed to set up his blanket and pillow. “Always worked on you when you couldn’t sleep.” 

“Cas can fall asleep, he just doesn’t like BEING asleep,” Sam sums up their conversation from before.

Dean looks up at Cas, who is lingering near his bed but not climbing into it yet, and smirks. 

“Maybe once you have a few good dreams you’ll look forward to it.” 

Castiel wishes that he could dream. He’s even willing to accept a nightmare at this point. Anything would be better than the nothingness. Climbing into bed, he pulls the soft blankets up around his shoulders and sighs deeply.

“Maybe.”

“You sure you don’t want to do any breathing or anything to relax?” Sam asks from the other side of the bed. Turning his head on the pillow, Cas glances down at him and smiles the slightest bit. He’s grateful the brothers are trying to help him.

“I’m okay, Sam. Thank you, but I just want to try to sleep.”

“Okay. Good night, Cas,” Sam replies with a small smile as well. 

Dean echoes from the other side of the bed, “G’night.”

Cas looks up at the ceiling, the little star’s light chasing the shadows away with its warm rays.

“Good night,” he murmurs, and closes his eyes. The heavy darkness of sleep weighs on him, but the slow, steady breathing of Sam and Dean as they drift off helps remind him that he’s not alone.  


* * *

  
“Cas? Hey, Cas…” Sam’s talking to him, but Cas doesn’t see him anywhere. He’s in a green park with benches and flowers lining the paths, and he can’t remember how he got here. The sun is warm on his face. He’s wearing his trench coat and other usual clothing, not the pajamas. 

“We found them, Cas. Your wings. They’re over here.” Now it’s Dean talking, sounding proud of himself. Castiel turns slowly and looks around, but the brothers aren’t anywhere in his sight.

“Dean,” he calls, starting to walk down one of the paths. He thinks maybe he heard the voices from this way. “Sam?”

There’s a little pond here with water lilies and a weeping willow tree. The shade lands half over the bench set beneath it. 

Sam’s sitting on the shady end of the bench, Dean on the sunny end. They both wave him over urgently. 

“Your wings, Cas — we can make you an angel again!” They’re pointing into the water, but Cas finds that he doesn’t care about his wings. He wants to sit with them on the bench. The middle spot is exactly half in the sun and half in the shade.

“I’ll sit with you,” he tells them. They smile, no objections at all, and Cas sits with his friends on either side of him. When the shadows fall across one side of his face, though, the world inside of them isn’t the park. 

It’s the sky — space, a galaxy of blackness twinkling with bright stars. It’s vast and cold and slowly tilting. He can see a different world with each eye, the park and the stars. The peaceful trees and pond still wait in the sunlight, and the shadows feel like he can fall forever into them. 

He should want his wings. He should be afraid. Instead, he feels Sam and Dean sitting beside him, so close their elbows touch, and he closes his eyes against it all. He doesn’t need to go anywhere else. When he’s with them, he’s home.  


* * *

  
When he opens his eyes again, he’s back in his bed. Sam is gone, his folded blanket and pillow resting neatly on the floor in his place. To his other side, Dean is sleeping on his face, snoring softly. 

Memories of the park and the distant, twinkling stars are still fresh in Castiel’s mind, and he feels disoriented. Was he…dreaming? Is that what a dream feels like?

Trying to reason out why his mind chose to show him such things is pointless. Sam read to him about dreams during their research, and said most likely they are caused by whatever is on your mind when you sleep. Castiel’s eyes go to the little star push light, and he thinks of the vast galaxy in his dream. That makes sense well enough. 

He climbs out of bed, next looking down at Dean asleep on the floor. Sam and Dean were there when he went to sleep, so it makes sense that they would also be in the dream. The park very much resembles Castiel’s favorite Heaven, and the talk of his wings must be thoughts about becoming human. He has lost his wings, after all, even though they were no longer in any shape to fly on anymore at the time.

He’s vaguely wondering if that means the park bench was the bunker, because Sam and Dean were there, when the younger Winchester pokes his head into the room. It’s only then that Cas realizes the door was left open a crack.

“Good morning, Cas.” Sam glances down at Dean, not the least bit surprised he’s still asleep, and opens the door the rest of the way. He steps inside and over to stand beside the bed. Cas lingers near it, himself. 

“Good morning, Sam.” 

“Did you sleep okay? Dean snores, sometimes snoring keeps other people awake.” Sam has that concerned furrow in his brows, even though he’s trying to smile and make light of it. 

“I slept…better.” Castiel sounds as bemused about it as he feels. He turns to Sam, meeting his eyes uncertainly. “I think I may have had a dream.”

His friend’s face lights up at that. He’s caught off-guard by the hug. 

“Cas, that’s great! What was it about? Do you remember much of it?” Sam sits back before Cas can do more than pat his back once or twice, but he’s smiling so brightly. Dreams seem to be a good thing. He has to admit that going to sleep seems better with a dream waiting instead of nothingness.

He nods, smiling too. He can’t help it — Sam hasn’t smiled like this in a very long time. 

“It didn’t feel how I expected. It felt like I was there. You, uh, you and Dean were there, too. You were trying to help me become an angel again,” he explains almost shyly. It feels odd to describe the dream aloud. The memories are clear, like it really happened. Aloud it sounds strange to be telling Sam he did something he never did, though. 

Sam’s smile softens at that, and the worried brow furrow is back. 

“I wish we did have a way to do that.”

“I don’t,” Cas admits, surprising him. He gestures to Dean asleep on the floor. “Even in the dream I didn’t. I chose to stay with you and Dean instead, and that was what I wanted.” Placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder, Cas meets his eyes. “What I still want, Sam. If I could choose again, I would still choose this.”

The smile is back, every bit as bright as before, and this time Sam hugs him plenty long enough to hug back.

**Author's Note:**

> Human!Cas having trouble sleeping is something I think about a lot. I wanted to write a fic where Sam and Dean were around to help him this time. 
> 
> I drew a pic of him with his star light: [Chibi Cas with Star](http://threshasketch.tumblr.com/post/163612935248/cas-with-his-star-shaped-night-light-from-my)


End file.
